so big so small
by sugar-and-bitter-blues
Summary: When Izuku doesn't know what to do, his mom might not have the right answer, but she can still help her son. - A mother's day fic dedicated to the best mom.


**Notes:** I wanted to write a mother's day fic based on this song from Dear Evan Hansen because it fit so well. So, here we are.

This is also sort of an AU, since Izuku never visited Inko in the recent chapters of the manga. But, I kind of wanted a scene like this since Inko is so loving and supportive and, even if she might not know exactly what's going on, she'll still do her best to make him feel better.

And, also, Hisashi didn't leave them permanently. In canon, he's technically working abroad. But, for the purposes of this fic, he left and is gone.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

When Izuku visited home for the first time in several weeks, Inko immediately knew there was something wrong. He wasn't his usual, chipper self. There was an aura of uncertainty around him and he was completely silent.

So, she cooked his favorite meal. She let him sit on the couch and stew in his thoughts for while she did. She remained silent, not pushing him for answers, because he wasn't ready to give any. As much as she wanted to rush over and frantically ask him if he was okay, if something happened, if everything was okay at school, she knew that wouldn't fix anything. She had to take her time with this and be as patient as she could be.

Once the katsudon was finished, she took both bowls and put one in front of Izuku before sitting next to him on the couch. He glanced up at her, his eyes glassy. Inko brushed her fingers through his hair and gave him a comforting smile.

"You can talk to me," she said. "About anything."

He looked at her with those big, green eyes filled with confusion and fear and doubt and all the things Inko wanted to take away to make him feel better. His voice trembled as he responded. "I... I can't. W-well, I can't tell you right now."

It breaks her heart to see him in such distress. He so clearly wanted to tell her, wanted to ask for help, but didn't know how without giving away the details. And if he couldn't talk about it, that must mean it had something to do with him being a hero. A big mission, maybe. She continued to run her fingers through his hair. "You don't have to tell me everything. Just whatever you can."

He sniffled and rubbed his eyes away of tears. "I... I don't know what to do. There are so many things happening. People are getting hurt and… and there's… nothing I can do about it."

He pulled his legs up from the couch and wrapped his arms around them, sniffling as tears welled up in his eyes. "It just feels like too much…" he mumbles.

For a moment, Inko didn't know what to do. Izuku was always the type who held the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he didn't need to. He felt like it was his responsibility to carry this invisible burden. She used to be the same way when she was younger, always doing her best to help people, even when it felt like too much. Like mother, like son, they say. That's what made him a true hero.

She got up and walked over to a nearby closet. On the top shelf, she pulled out one of Izuku's old All Might blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders. Sitting back down, she gently took his hand.

"Do you… do you remember the day your dad came by to get his things?"

He looked up at her and shook his head. She wasn't surprised. He was very young at the time. Barely four years old and his attention somewhere else. And, Hisashi had always been a bit distant due to his work.

"It was a few weeks after the doctor told us about your toe and he moved out." She laughed to herself, breathy and hollow. "Temporarily, we said."

He gave her hand a light squeeze, silently urging her to continue.

"It was sometime in February. He told me it was for work and he would be back in a few months. Just in time for your birthday." His work always kept him away from them. Inko could only remember one time he was there for Izuku's birthday, and that was his first one. After that, he felt more like a ghost than a husband. "I held out hope that what he said was true, until I saw the moving truck. That's when it became real. He wasn't coming back."

Now her eyes were going misty. With her other hand, she gently wiped away her tears so she could continue. "I told you to stay inside. I didn't want you seeing your dad leaving. But, you saw that truck before I could make sure you were still in the apartment. Your smile was so big, I almost thought there was an All Might sticker somewhere on the truck."

Izuku smiled a little bit at that and squeezed her hand again.

"You begged me to see the truck. It was the first one you had seen in person. We let you sit behind the wheel." She smiled at the memory. He was so happy, playing in the driver's seat in spite of the circumstances. His smile made it just a little bit more bearable to watch the truck drive away. "And as that moving truck left, the apartment suddenly felt so much bigger than it was before. And I felt so much smaller. I didn't think I could raise you all by myself."

"Mom…"

Inko wiped away the tears that were starting to stream down his cheeks. "And, that night, while I was tucking you in, I'll never forget it. You sat up and looked at me and asked, 'Is there another truck coming to take mommy away?'"

Izuku unfolded himself, his feet touching the ground again. "I said that?"

Inko nodded. "You did. And that was when I knew… I would have to do it all alone. And I knew there would be moments that I'd miss and space I couldn't fill. And I knew, in my heart, that no matter how hard I tried, I would come up short in a million different ways."

Even through her tears, she still managed to laugh and smile. "And I did. And I will. There's no getting around that."

Now Izuku was definitely going to cry. His lower lip trembled and he was doing his best not to cry, but Inko wanted him to. It was good. It would make him feel better.

"But, I took your hand." She did so now, the one where his knuckles were deformed and scars littered his skin, and held it between both of her hands. "Squeezed it tightly and said, 'There's not another truck coming to take mommy away.'"

The dam broke and Izuku was sobbing. He held onto her hand just as tightly and with the other, he tried to wipe away his tears. Inko was starting to cry too. She let go of his hand and pulled him into a hug. He returned it, burying his face into her shoulder, his body shaking with his sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, Izuku," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm staying right here, until everything that feels so big, that feels like too much, feels so small that when you look back, it'll seem almost invisible."

They stayed like that for a long time. He cried and she held him. What she didn't say was the night he asked that question, he cried just as much. And she hugged him, telling him she wasn't going anywhere. Her grip wasn't as strong now, and Izuku was so much bigger. But, it felt so familiar. She rubbed circles into his back, and held him tightly as he let out all of his feelings. The stress and worry he had collected while he was at school, finally finding a release.

When they parted, Izuku rubbed his eyes one more time and sniffled. "Thanks, mom. I needed that."

Inko smiled at him. "I'm glad I could help." She took his katsudon and held it up to him. "Now, eat up while it's still hot."

His smile brought warmth and joy in her heart. He was going to be okay. Even if everything felt big and impossible now, it would turn into a speck in the future. And, for now, that comfort was enough. For the both of them.


End file.
